


Celebration

by strawberriesandtophats



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23631082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesandtophats/pseuds/strawberriesandtophats
Summary: The people of Ankh-Morpork had clearly decided that the best way to deal with having a crush on Lord Vetinari was to make him their children's godfather.
Relationships: Moist von Lipwig & Havelock Vetinari
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	Celebration

Children weren’t scared of Lord Vetinari, Moist von Lipwig first noticed when he’d sped past where Lord Vetinari was standing at the gates of the Assassin’s Guild, clearly deep in conversation with Lord Downey.  
Lipwig had jumped on the back of the Post Office mail coach to save time, holding onto his hat and feeling the wind on his face. It was almost as good as riding out of town, a small thrill in a day that he’d thought would be full of administration until the Sorting Machine in the Post Office had shaken the whole building and began spitting out letters from a different timeline.  
Mr. Fusspot had been trying to impress one of Lord Downey’s elegantly groomed dogs, showing off a new collar.  
But what had really caught Lipwig’s attention was the fact that the children that passed by outright waved at Vetinari, who in fact waved back. Then the kids kept walking home from school, chatting with their friends or the family member who had come to escort them to piano lessons or something. Grubby children and children in school uniforms alike greeted Vetinari on the street as ‘Uncle Havelock’ before going on about their day.  
The first time Lipwig had heard it, he’d assumed that he’d hallucinated the whole thing. Kids only called Lipwig two things: Mr. Postmaster and sometimes Mr. Bank. And they insulted his fashion choices, pointing out the glitter that was falling off the wings on his hat.

Then again, Vetinari had hundreds of godchildren. Parents from all walks of life had clearly decided that if someone was going to help their kid through life if something happened to them, it better be someone who was very competent. Lipwig suspected that this was also an odd, if safe way to show that you supported the Patrician very much indeed.  
It was not like they were ever going to meet him in person, or interact with him much. Just a decision made on a whim by a great number of people in a city that had become far less grubby and dangerous than it used to be with Lord Vetinari in charge.  
And if people had a celebrity crush, Vetinari was a popular one.  
The romance novel that had become a sensation had a part to play in this, Lipwig was sure. It had a love interest that had several things in common with his lordship, being a tall and dark-clad powerful individual who was sarcastic at everyone. Not that Lipwig had stolen that book from where it lay behind the counter at the Post Office, at all. Besides, he’d returned it once his suspicions were confirmed.

Charlie was to blame, too. Most of his work playing the part of his lordship appeared to consist mostly of attending children’s parties. He’d ask children how they felt about living in the city, quiz them about their lives and sometimes teach them to play Thud. And hide-and-seek, too.  
Although Lipwig had once seen Mr. Boggis have a long and detailed conversation with the person who might or might not be Charlie right by the fence where a children’s birthday party was being held in the garden.

And the fact was that people had shown up in Lipwig’s office after a few of those parties, the shells of their ears still burning, asking how in the world the letter they’d sent to hire Charlie to play Lord Vetinari had somehow ended up on the Patrician’s desk and he’d shown up himself. Not that they hadn’t served him their best tea and given him the best chair in the kitchen so he could rest his leg, but they still wanted answers.  
Lipwig always apologized for the inconvenience, but he never missed the glint of pride in their eyes at having had the lord of the city visit their house and drink their tea. When they’d listened to Lipwig’s explanation about how there was always the possibility of things becoming mixed up, they’d usually tell him that his lordship had petted their dog and thanked them for their hospitality.  
When Lipwig had mentioned that people came to his office to let him know of these mailing mishaps to his lordship, Vetinari hadn’t even said anything.  
He’d just smiled and leaned back in his seat with the look of a man that was pleased with his day’s work.


End file.
